Stephanie Meyers’ Twilight series has revived popular interest in stories about forbidden love. All over the world, Twilight readers have been buying copies of books like Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and The Undead Hair Manual.

However, Meyers’ series has been criticized for giving impressionable teens and tweens unrealistic expectations about romance, not to mention that whole womb-eating vampire baby thing.

With Facebook groups like “Why isn’t Edward Cullen real?” and “Twilight Has Ruined Any Chance I Have at a Realistic Relationship” (Twilight Has Ruined Any Chance I Have at a Realistic Relationship) have become increasingly fashionable, many scruffy and poorly dressed adolescent males fear that their chances of romance are dwindling. (To level the playing field, every other media outlet has kept its inverse female beauty/female clothing ratio at an all-time high.)

This barrage of unrealistic expectations is more than many of us can bear. For those who prefer their old-school (agonizing, embarrassing, and possibly fatal) forbidden love, here are some classics that should be a depressing breath of fresh air.

Painful scenario number one: mutual destruction. Forbidden boy meets forbidden girl, forbidden boy and girl get married in secret, forbidden newlyweds are accidentally killed in an elaborate plan to leave town. This is the Romeo and Juliet strategy for love and it happens… well, not all the time, but it does happen.

Reasons we like it: You know how fairy tales always end right after the fair maiden and prince charming get married? That’s because no one wants to hear about diaper changes or mortgage payments. A violent ending cuts out all the boring stuff, plus taps into the primitive, reptilian part of our brain that links sex with danger and death. Which, by the way, is not the same as undeath.

Painful scenario number two: silent longing. The boy meets the girl, the boy decides the girl is out of his league, the boy swallows his feelings and vows to die alone. This is J. Alfred Prufrock’s love song, and according to our secret diary’s research, it actually happens all the time.

Why we like it: We were there a lot. Avoiding confrontation is a great way to not only protect your dignity, but also to keep the fantasy alive: We bet that special someone has never burped, farted, or drunk called your mom. In addition, the scenario also appeals to our depressive fatalism. Not that this self-pity is going to wallow in itself.

Painful scenario number three: self-destruct. The boy meets an unattainable girl, the boy starts a lucrative life of crime to impress the girl with a luxurious mansion, the boy is totally cheated. Er, shot. Have both. This is the Great Gatsby courtship strategy, and while attractive in its own right, we don’t recommend trying it at home.

Why we like it: Dying for a cause can be very noble, and getting incredibly rich along the way has its advantages too. Then, when your love interest turns out to be selfish, entitled, and therefore not worth your time, you can enjoy the special satisfaction that comes from knowing that you are a superior being. This feeling will last several whole seconds before that bullet becomes a problem.